


Dough-lful

by Missy



Category: Psych
Genre: Drabble, Humor, M/M, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Public Sex, Romance, Table Sex, Thought Projection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-14
Updated: 2011-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 10:01:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shawn and Gus investigate a murder at a pizza restaurant, and take a little time to prep each other for the investigation ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dough-lful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GypsyJr (HippieGeekGirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippieGeekGirl/gifts).



> For Becky: the fluff is pointless, but hopefully cheering.

Shawn stared at the unfortunate chef, who had met his untimely end in an unflattering red apron and a fake handlebar mustache. Gus sighed and shook his head as Juliet crouched down to take a Polaroid snapshot for Forensics. “Poor Mister Palucci.”

“Poor, tragically-dressed man…Hey, does this invalidate my two-for-the-price-of-one coupons? I wanted to have lunch here tomorrow…”

“Shawn!” Gus shouted.

“Wait, I’m getting a vision…” Shawn rubbed his temples and, immediately stared off into space. Gus was prepared for the familiar; a declaration of something seen or heard or observed. After all, Shawn was psychic in only one way.

 _Dude, I’m starving. Pizza-flavored Combos break?_ Shawn’s voice echoed in Gus’ mind.

Shawn’s eyebrow quirked, but he glared back at his best friend and lover. _Shawn, how can you be hungry? A man just bit the pizza farm. Not cool, man._

 _I’m hungry, you’re hungry, and Mr. Paluuci isn’t going to get less dead while we eat._

 _All right. No more mental projection stuff for the rest of the day!_

 _You have my thought, good man._ Shawn glanced at the counter. “Check his throat for dough. Gus and I are taking a little Fanta break.”

“You promised me Combos,” Gus replied.

“Combos AND Fanta, Gus.”

“We’re certainly living the high life today,” Gus replied.

***

“I don’t believe it,” Juliet said, sitting down at Gus and Shawn’s table while turning her back to the kitchen. “You were right. Someone choked poor Mister Palucci to death with a handful of pizza dough.”

“Dough…” Shawn said thoughtfully. “I bet dough’s behind this whole problem.”

Gus’ features scrunched up. “Why are you going all David Caruso on us? You know if you take off a pair of sunglasses, I’m going to leave you.”

“First of all, I’d have to buy sunglasses first, and I spent my last five dollars on those Combos. Second of all, it’s elementary, my dear pharmaceutical salesman,” Shawn declared. “Someone wants Mr. Palucci’s pepperoni.” Inappropriately, Shawn’s hand brushed against Gus’ crotch and his knees smacked into the table.

“Right,” Jules realized. “But why do they want his pepperoni?”

“Because it’s stuffed with cash.” Shawn unzipped Gus’ fly. Gus gulped down a mouthful of water. “And whoever’s after his pizza business is serious about getting it.”

“That’s so obvious it’s probably true,” Jules declared. “It looks like Lassiter and I have some leads to research. I’ll see you back at the station. Be good, boys.” It was clear to Gus that she knew exactly what was happening; oh, did Shawn owe him big time for letting him get away with this…

Once she was out of sight, Gus glared at his friend. “Shawn!”

“Oh look,” Shawn chirped, “I dropped my pencil.” He held it out and deliberately tossed it on the floor. In full view of the dozen or so cops still in the kitchen, he dove under the table.

The next five minutes were torture for Gus, and ended with him muffling his well-pleased cries into a paper napkin.

 _Not bad, Mister Mister,_ Shawn thought as he finished up.

After a good five minutes, Shawn resurfaced, a cocky grin on his lips.

“What was that for?”

“Because you’re awesome,” Shawn said, and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “And you needed to relax, Mister Magichead. You were way too uptight for your own good.”

“We’re at a crime scene and you just gave me a handjob in front of your ex-girlfriend!”

“So? And we’re all out of Combos,” he reminded Gus, and pecked him on the lips. “It’s not a big tragedy. Oh, and I love you.”

“You too. Even though you’re driving me completely crazy.”

“And it’s your turn,” Shawn reminded him happily, sitting back, waiting clearly. Gus deflected any attempt at Shawn peeking through his psychic state, however.

“Later,” Gus said. “We have a Dough Strangler to catch first.”

“You’re not serious about making me wait that long…are you?”

Gus grinned and tossed Shawn his motorcycle helmet. “Enjoy the ride back to the office,” he teased, and rushed off to his car.


End file.
